Too much
Too much
"I told you you'd get sick. If you hadn't been so busy frolicking you'd have heard."
"First thing's first," Alex starts and is interrupted by a cough, making him splutter the following sentence, "Men don't frolic."
Callie rolls her eyes from where she stands at the kitchen counter, pouring tea into mugs.
"And secondly-"
cough
"-I was wearing a raincoat-"
cough
"You're off in the snow all the time with not even so much as a sweater, plus you smoke like a goddamn chimney, so why, why, why-"
cough
"-am I the one getting sick? Mother nature is a vindictive bitch to pull this kinda crap."
Callie shoves a steaming mug into Alex's hands, making sure to sit a good distance away from him to avoid catching his flu.
"Next time maybe she'll strike you with a lightning bolt instead," she mutters, sipping her tea.
Alex pretends not to hear and instead pulls the cream colored blanket closer around his frame, his mouth trembling slightly in between sips.
"It's been a while since I've been sick actually," he murmurs absentmindedly and Callie nods, recalling no memory of having seen him like this before. "I tried not to be, for..." and he stops short, the mug stilling halfway between his lap and his lips. Immediately, the warning bells go off in Callie's head.
"I hear sleeping helps, let's get you to bed," she offers, but knows in that instant that she's too late. Alex is staring off into space, his reveries only broken by the occasional cough. A sigh escapes her and she reaches over, finding Alex arms beneath the blanket and manages to support his weight all the way into his bedroom, where he sits on the edge of the bed, the bedsheets curling under clenched fists.
"Try to get some sleep."
His gaze is downcast as he speaks, his voice already turning raspy. "Shit, Cal, I'm..."
"Clyde, don't."
"I'm sorry."
A part of her wants to punch him for being such an idiot. A part of her just wants to leave his room right this instant. "Go to sleep, Clyde," she grits out and crosses the room in two long strides, slamming the door behind her.
That night Callie doesn't sleep.
"I told you you'd get sick. If you hadn't been so busy frolicking you'd have heard."
"First thing's first," Alex starts and is interrupted by a cough, making him splutter the following sentence, "Men don't frolic."
Callie rolls her eyes from where she stands at the kitchen counter, pouring tea into mugs.
"And secondly-"
cough
"-I was wearing a raincoat-"
cough
"You're off in the snow all the time with not even so much as a sweater, plus you smoke like a goddamn chimney, so why, why, why-"
cough
"-am I the one getting sick? Mother nature is a vindictive bitch to pull this kinda crap."
Callie shoves a steaming mug into Alex's hands, making sure to sit a good distance away from him to avoid catching his flu.
"Next time maybe she'll strike you with a lightning bolt instead," she mutters, sipping her tea.
Alex pretends not to hear and instead pulls the cream colored blanket closer around his frame, his mouth trembling slightly in between sips.
"It's been a while since I've been sick actually," he murmurs absentmindedly and Callie nods, recalling no memory of having seen him like this before. "I tried not to be, for..." and he stops short, the mug stilling halfway between his lap and his lips. Immediately, the warning bells go off in Callie's head.
"I hear sleeping helps, let's get you to bed," she offers, but knows in that instant that she's too late. Alex is staring off into space, his reveries only broken by the occasional cough. A sigh escapes her and she reaches over, finding Alex arms beneath the blanket and manages to support his weight all the way into his bedroom, where he sits on the edge of the bed, the bedsheets curling under clenched fists.
"Try to get some sleep."
His gaze is downcast as he speaks, his voice already turning raspy. "Shit, Cal, I'm..."
"Clyde, don't."
"I'm sorry."
A part of her wants to punch him for being such an idiot. A part of her just wants to leave his room right this instant. "Go to sleep, Clyde," she grits out and crosses the room in two long strides, slamming the door behind her.
That night Callie doesn't sleep.